Our guy just finished a 10-day intensive at therapy. It was, by far, the hardest one so far, but his progress overall has been great! When he is stressed from all of this, it affects us all, as we are his family and we deal with the moment-by-moment and it’s not always so pretty. I’ve been a little bit inside my own head as I think on his issues and family issues, and next steps, and so on.

Today I took him for his regular weekly therapy. As I walked in, another mom was looking at a bulletin board. As she saw us come in, she moved toward the main desk and picked up tissues. ‘Tis the season for colds, but she wasn’t blowing her nose. She was wiping her face. Not her eyes, her face. She was in tears, and I was no longer focused on what was going on inside my own head, but on how I could help her. I was torn - I wanted to go over and sit with her and assure her that she would be okay, but I didn’t want to do that in front of my son. I didn’t want to draw his attention to her sadness. Another family came in and while my son went into his session, I still didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to this mom’s sadness, so I waited.

Finally, the room emptied and we were the only ones around. I asked her if she was just starting at the center, which she was. She told me a little bit about her story. I listened as she talked about feeling uncertain, and scared. I listened as she said it was all taking a toll on her entire family. And she cried. And I cried. (I’ve come to realize that, on this journey, you don’t cry alone.) As we talked, she had questions and I was able to help with some of those. Peace seemed to come over her as we talked. It’s that moment of realizing you’re not alone - you’re not the only one walking the path on this journey. I trust that she felt more secure, and less alone, as her family starts this new journey.

Tonight I emailed a friend. I had some autism-related questions that I knew she would be able to help me with. It was my turn now - I was the mom on the edge of a new situation, full of questions, a little fearful, and reaching out for someone who might have answers. I was not disappointed - my friend knew just what to say to answer the questions I had. I knew she would!

Just like I knew I could talk to that mom in the waiting room this morning and help to answer her questions.

I’m learning that our life may not always look typical. We don’t move with as much ease as other families. But we move in a special circle where there is always someone we can help, and someone who can help us when we need it - the circle of special needs families.